


Glorious

by seki



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 14:00:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18121886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seki/pseuds/seki
Summary: Ignis is shaped like something straight out of Noctis's fantasies, and how dare he.Written for the Ignoct White Day Exchange, for grey_sw! You requested Noct admiring Ignis' big, strong, gymnast's body. I hope you like it!





	Glorious

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grey_sw (grey)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey/gifts).



Noctis, aged twenty years old and feeling far too old for such a thing, is having a sexual crisis.

Here in the locker room, three of the finest men Lucis has to offer are chatting, visibly fresh from the showers, one wrapped only in a small towel, the others in the standard-issue black Crownsguard boxer-briefs. They seem to be in no hurry to get dressed, haven't even noticed Noctis standing there in his sweaty shorts and t-shirt, and there's a golden hue to the light that emphasises all that muscle and those beads of water slowly dripping down firm chests and strong arms.

It's a beautiful sight. Noctis is very capable of appreciating that kind of view.

And it's a relief to be here, because, beautiful as these men are, none of them are _Ignis_.

Noctis swaps his sweaty towel for a fresh one and heads for the private shower cubicles. Once inside, he locks the door firmly and lets himself lean his head against it.

Shit.

Noctis isn't new to gyms, or locker rooms. His high school had enforced regular cardio and resistance training right up until he graduated, and he'd been required to work out for weapons training on top of that. But this time had been different. This time he'd bumped into Ignis outside the gym in the basement of the Citadel.

This time, Ignis had said, "Oh, I'm heading in myself. I'll spot you on the weights."

And then they'd had to get changed together.

Noctis had seen Ignis naked or semi-naked several times when they were younger. He was always slim, tall, bespectacled, serious-looking. The sort of person who grows up into a skinny intellectual, most likely.

But it's been a very long time since then. And it turns out that Ignis, these days, is _ripped_. Tall, still, of course, but with surprisingly broad shoulders, well-defined muscles everywhere Noctis sneaks a glance at. A swimmer's body, or a gymnast's, v-shaped torso and long lean legs.

And as soon as Noctis thinks that, he nearly smacks himself. Of _course_ Ignis would have a body like a gymnast. Noctis has trained with Ignis regularly, has watched him perform impressive acrobatics. Ignis always dresses in his Crownsguard fatigues for training, and his chosen fatigues style is nearly _office-wear_. Sturdily-made, like all fatigues, and designed to permit any maneuvers which a martial artist and soldier might need, but still, tailored like Ignis was about to stride into a meeting of trendy creative businesspeople at any moment.

Noctis has never before connected Ignis's physical abilities with the physique that must be involved.

Now, he's not sure he'll ever be unaware of it again.

And it's unsettling. Noctis is a grown man. He can _handle_ seeing someone attractive next to him, can sneak looks and admire and compartmentalise that into, gosh, look at _him_ and not do anything about it.

But this is Ignis. And a glance or two is nothing compared to being there while Ignis did his workout, while Ignis stretched effortlessly and ran with those long legs striding away the miles and then, oh god, then pulling or pushing on the training machines with no apparent concern for the little grunts he was making or the sweat that darkened his top.

The breaking point had been the adductor machine. Ignis had settled himself, and begun squeezing his thighs together against the machine's outward pressure. He hadn't even seemed to be making _much_ effort, though the weights seemed set quite high, and Noctis had suddenly realised how powerful Ignis's thighs were.

It had been _hot_ to consider that strength, the way those legs might feel clasping around his waist. Too hot. Noctis had had to mumble an excuse and leave, groin uncomfortably tight. And he can't even do much about it; the showers might allow locking but there's no way Noctis is gonna jerk out his arousal here.

He undresses, shoves the temperature dial down low, hisses as the icy water hits him. Serves him right, he thinks, scrubbing at himself angrily. What a dumb reaction to have to _Ignis_ , of all people. He sees Ignis all the time. He likes Ignis a lot, they're friends, close friends who spend a lot of time together. He already has a sort of crush, kind of, on Ignis, which he's totally sure will go away one of these days. Being uncomfortably aware of Ignis being a stone cold hottie under his clothes… ugh. It'll just make things _super_ awkward.

"Noct? Are you alright?"

Shit. "Fine."

"Well, you didn't finish your circuit, so--"

"I'm _fine_ , Specs." Noctis cuts off the water. "Just realised I need to get to a meeting."

There's a pause. Ignis's running shoes are visible, below the cubicle edge. "I don't recall that being the case."

Noctis curses internally. Never lie about meetings to the man who arranges your schedule. "A meeting with friends," he says. "Coffee. Very last-minute."

"Hm."

"So, yeah." Noctis wraps his towel around himself, opens up the cubicle door, tries for a breezy smile. "Sorry to run off."

Ignis is there, in his skimpy, sweaty workout clothing, hair all mussed up, flushed from exercise and looking for all the world -- to Noctis's active imagination, anyway -- as if he'd been well-fucked for a few hours. "A little warning would have been nice."

"Sorry."

"I suppose I'll forgive you." Ignis crosses his arms, and Noctis tries not to look at the way that makes his shoulders flex. "Though I thought we were having dinner tonight? I've bought supplies to attempt that pastry again."

Crap. Noctis keeps his smile in place, aims for unruffled. "We are. I'm just grabbing a coffee with a friend first. She's having a, um, a crisis. Emergency."

"Ah."

"See you later, then," Noctis says, and pushes past Ignis. "I'll meet you at yours."

\--

Ignis's apartment is closer to the Citadel than Noctis's place, though Noctis these days mostly lives in his old Citadel rooms as they're more convenient. One of these days he'll probably just move back to them entirely, he thinks, but he's got a lot of good memories in his own place and he's not quite ready to let go of being _independent_.

"You're late," Ignis calls from the kitchen as Noctis lets himself in.

"Sorry," Noctis replies, and then winces. He needs to stop apologising so much, according to Ignis, and he can't seem to help himself today. "If it makes up for it, I stopped off on the way and got Ebony."

Ignis leans out of the kitchen door, and thank mercy, he's all clean and intellectual-looking again. "Which type?"

"The double-shot type, because I was near the shop and--" and then Noctis has to laugh, because Ignis's face has just lit up. Ebony's current limited edition double-strength variant is only available in three shops, but it's apparently so good that Ignis is writing pleading letters for it to be installed in the Citadel's vending machines. "Man, you're _such_ an addict."

"Shush, and hand it over."

Noctis gets a can from his bag, and Ignis clutches it dramatically to himself.

"My beloved," he purrs in a parody of possessive glee, and then vanishes back into his kitchen.

Noctis swaps his shoes for Ignis's soft guest slippers, and heads for the mini-fridge Ignis has in his living room. Half-full, which means the cans Noctis bought barely fit inside, and only then because he extracts a grape soda for himself.

"Dinner's a baked colby with saffron rice, poached vegetables and a lemon sauce," Ignis's voice announces from the kitchen. "I think you'll like it."

Ignis persists in hoping Noctis will 'like' meals involving vegetables. Noctis persists in pretending revulsion even when the vegetables are pretty tasty, but since Ignis sees right through his deception anyway, it's all fine. Probably.

"We'll see."

Ignis comes in, and he's dressed as he sometimes does in the evenings: dark grey shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, tucked in at the waist but open most of the way and showing the black undervest worn beneath, black trousers that are probably Crownsguard fatigues. Nothing remarkable, really, nothing Noctis hasn't seen him in a hundred times before, but now he's aware of the way the undervest clings to Ignis's stomach and chest, the obvious muscle in Ignis's forearms, can picture the lean legs beneath the tight fabric of those trousers. The skull pendant catches the light, draws Noctis's eyes to the hollows of Ignis's collarbones.

They're _very_ sexy collarbones, which is another uncomfortable thing for Noctis to realise.

The plates Ignis has set in front of him are oval, shallow and blue-edged. Unfamiliar, under the familiarness of the way Ignis arranges food. Seizing on a safer topic than Ignis's clavicles, Noctis touches the edge of it. "These are new."

"Indeed. And the food, Noct?"

"Looks great, but it always does. Why are you buying new plates?"

"I wanted them." Ignis sits down. "Why can't I buy new plates?"

"I dunno. Just wasn't expecting it." Noctis forks up a mouthful of food, randomly, barely tasting it. "Mm. Good."

Ignis gives him a deeply puzzled look. "The vegetables? Are you feeling alright?"

Shit. "Uh."

"You've been strange all day." Ignis shakes his head, just slightly, as if dismissing Noctis's behaviour, and returns his attention to his own food. "How was your coffee meeting?"

Right, the excuse. "Fine. We talked, she's okay now."

"Do I know this young lady?"

"Er. Not really. Someone from my old school," Noctis invents. "Boyfriend problems. Cheating. I told her to dump him."

Ignis sips his Ebony, looking thoughtful. "I confess I've never thought of you as a relationship guru."

"Yeah, well, you know me, with my experience of dozens and dozens of boyfriends."

Apparently it's perfectly timed: Ignis splutters and coughs on his Ebony, and then spills a lot of it down himself. Noctis can't help but laugh at Ignis's dismayed expression as he wipes at his chest. And then Ignis sighs, gets up, sets down his can, and begins to yank his shirt out of his trousers.

"Uh, Specs--"

Ignis hauls off his loose shirt, pulling it over his head by the back of the collar, somehow avoiding dislodging his glasses in the process. "I'm _wet._ "

"But--"

And then Ignis hauls off his undervest too, and Noctis nearly swallows his tongue. Ignis's body is _perfect_ , it really is, beautiful muscle in proportions that look _godly_ to Noctis as Ignis moves. This is worse than the gym, worse than the locker room. At least in those places Ignis's body is, well, _supposed_ to be visible. Over dinner, here, where Noctis can't run away, feels like he's _perving_. But he can't manage to look away.

Ignis uses the vest to pat down the droplets of Ebony on his chest, readjusts his skewed glasses, and then shoots Noctis an accusatory look. "Boyfriends."

"I was joking," Noctis protests, weakly.

"Ah." Ignis holds his shirt in front of him, at arm's length, seems to be inspecting it for damp spots. "That's disappointing."

"It is?"

"Somewhat, yes." Ignis pulls the shirt back on, though he doesn't button it up. "I mean, I was _hoping_ to ask you out one of these days."

Noctis rips his gaze upwards from Ignis's collarbones, tries and fails to form words.

Ignis arches an eyebrow. "Any chance you weren't joking after all, Noct? Just so I know if I should refrain from asking, you understand."

"I said I hadn't had _dozens_ ," Noctis manages. "Not that I didn't want one."

Both of Ignis's eyebrows go up this time. "Huh."

"I mean. I'd think about saying yes to going out with you."

"Intriguing. And if I said, let's stay in instead?"

Noctis glances down at his plate, at the remains of the fish, the rice, the vegetables. The meal that Ignis cooked for him, on his fancy new plates. He looks up, at Ignis. Hm. "I'd say, aren't we already doing that?"

"It's possible." Ignis smiles, his expression fond.

"Just, um--"

"Hm?"

"Button up your top when you ask me? Or I'm gonna be too dazzled by those abs to even _answer_ you."

Ignis glances down, and then laughs. "No… no, do you know, I don't think I shall."

Noctis groans. "I'm doomed."

"Eat up, Noct." Ignis picks up his own fork, and then pauses, and places a hand across his chest. "And stop staring at your dessert. That's for later."

It's going to be a long, _wonderful_ evening.


End file.
